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Báo cáo lỗi dịch thuật
I hear disgruntled voices outside the door. It's Mexicans.
I have barley enough time to put on sweatpants on my floor and grab the shotgun next to my bed before I'm invaded by mexiboomers that end up being the apartment's maintenance team. I didn't know who they we're so I pointed the shotgun at them, half naked, in my poo poo smelly apartment.
They said they were there to change the filter and asked if I wanted it changed still.
Nah. I called up the office and chewed some ass because this has happened twice now. You don't intrude like that. I was like YOU KNOW I OWN GUNS RIGHT.
End message.
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But everything changed when I took a bite into my first cheese quesadilla since elementary school. Yes, there are plenty of wonderful gourmet grilled cheeses out there, but this fateful cheese quesadilla reminded me why I fell in love with the grilled cheese in the first place. The simplicity of the cheese quesadilla spoke to me more than prestige and truffle oil ever would.
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